Sharing the notebook with your daughter's algebra problems. Tearing out a page with your other writing on it accidentally.
And sharing your laptop. Trying to remember how to breathe.
Waking when the world is asleep to check your son's blood sugar. Waking again to get your daughter to her early classes.
Waking from a snatched catnap to teach your children (again) that "contention is of the devil." Reminding them of more constructive projects, like learning that "cleanliness is next to godliness."
Oh... cooking food. Did I mention this? Wishing you weren't eco-conscious so you could toss the dishes and forget about washing them. Remembering you have built-in dishwashers that need to learn how to work.
Lessons about money. And service. And saving money so you can serve.
Building talents and skills with hours of encouragement of all types. Praying to know what kind of encouragement to give.
Wanting them to be successful now and later. Wanting them to know how to be good people, and to choose to be them.
Parenting's crazy. It's a feat you have to take seriously and want to do, so that when it's breaking your soul, you can still smile at your kids. I see moms and dads around me doing such an incredible job at this, showing their children kindness and love while sweating to provide for them, that I just want to give those people heartfelt hugs and applause. They're giving their children life... their own lives and their kids' future lives.
You amazing parents are what our earth revolves around.
In the spirit of this, I'll leave you with an image.
If all of that up there were fiction, then my real life would be cliffdiving. Thrusting myself over the edge into a crystal blue sea.
It's the emotion I define raising my children with. Exhilarating, scary, a long, long fall. Your insides don't make the trip. Explosion and tightness in the water. Coldness countered by thrumming blood. Popping your ears. Holding your breath. Laughter.
And glorious views.
Worth the experience.
Cliffdiving is the perfect comparison! I had a bit of that today as I sent my two older boys to the Scout Klondike Derby. My second son just turned twelve, and can struggle with following instructions. (Learning disability.) It was difficult for me to send him off for the day like that, but it was necessary. They had a great time, and I survived that dive! Lots of breath holding!
ReplyDeleteI totally hear you! My 12-yr old is diabetic and sending him to scout camp for the first time about gave me a heart-attack. I couldn't stop worrying, but he came back alive (yeah!), and convinced me he can take care of things... plus he had great leaders to look out for him. It was so good for him, though, as well as me--taught us both to trust each other and be more independent at the same time. I always wonder if I'm teaching the kids everything they need to know to be successful on their own... but at least we only have to take it one day at a time, right? We are mothers, we are tough! And we can hold our breath for hours, lol!
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